Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the sole property of Square (except for those which I have created, of course). No copyright infringement is intended. I'm only "borrowing" them for the purpose of storytelling.
Chapter Four
"Her Mouth"
The girls sat around in their newly rented two-bed room in The Ships Inn. Relm was busying herself with the cracks in the paint. Peeling away the beige, revealing the aqua green paint. Much nicer, she thought. What was with people and their choices anyway? Was there no accounting for taste? It made her want to vomit. Spew.
Aisha had been in the bathroom for much too long, Relm decided. "You take that long to peel the paint off your face?" she barked at the chipped beige door. "Jeez, girl. What's with you Jidoorians, anyway? Too much time on your hands?"
"Shut it, you punk." Aisha burst from behind the door, toothbrush in hand. Hair in braids. "I'm not wearing that much face-paint. And look at yourself, Relm. At least mine isn't really paint!"
"Just as well, then." They glared at each other for a moment, snarling. Enemies didn't have half the resources as those friends, and they took explicit pride in this fact. Their jagged catcalls and otherwise verbal fencing brightened the otherwise stale conversation. Then laughter, always laughter. The benefit of being openly nasty was obvious to Relm.
Aisha returned to the sink, spit, and plunked the toothbrush back onto the counter. Tossing her deep brown braids over her shoulder, she flopped onto the bed next to Relm. Mattress creaking, springs threatening through thin fabric. "So what's the plan for tonight, then? We just gonna crash in here? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty . . . "
"...Tired? You cow! You can't be tired already!"
"We walked all the way from Jidoor today!"
"No excuse!"
"Fine. Whatever. You can go downstairs and drink dirty gin with the old creepy men, but I want to sleep, dammit!"
"Suit yourself, Aish. It could be fun. Live a little." Relm snapped a chip of paint between her fingers. Awaited her friend's rebuke.
"You always say that, and I do live quite fine, Relm. But not tonight, alright?"
"Fine then. Suit yourself." Relm shrugged, got up, and began to fix her hair in odd shapes with a number of magenta clips. Aisha sighed and began to change into her pajamas, brown linen to match her hair. Relm squeezed a portion of teal hair colouring onto her hand and began to vigorously apply it, a green braid. A Terra extension. She smiled a full devilish grin. An Esper-woman hairdo for an Esper-woman-finding town. Laughed into the mirror. Those crazy cats.
"What's so funny, Relm?"
"Nuthin'"
"No?" Aisha settled into the bunk a pulled the sheets around her. "And hey, for someone who was just chastising me about all the makeup I was wearing, you aren't exactly low-maintenance yourself!"
"Funny, Aish. Just call me the pot who called the kettle black, then." Relm fumbled with the small bag of cosmetics Aisha had dumped on the counter, and removed a tube of lipstick. "Hey, can I use this?"
"Sure." Aisha shook her head. Relm was impossible sometimes. A real jewel.
"You know, sometimes I feel like being someone else, you know, like not Relm anymore. Tonight I think I'll be someone else."
"Like who?"
"Well, I have this lipstick now. These crimson lips make me feel more cosmopolitan. Maybe I'll be you." She flashed a grin at Aisha. Her eyes simply buzzed with excitement.
"You haven't half the stature you need to be me, girl. Or the good looks." She grinned back.
"Oh, Fuddleheads!" Relm tossed the tube at her friend's head. "You're so mean to me!" But she laughed and threw her head back in drama, so Aisha knew it was okay. Relm plunked herself next to Aisha on the bed. "How about Rouge?" She flicked her hair back with a flourish. "Rouge Arrowny, the accomplished, and quite dashing, young artist from Jidoor."
"Sounds fine." Aisha yawned, "Just stay out of trouble, okay chicky?"
"Me? Trouble? Never in your life, Aish." They laughed.
"Well, either way, I'll be right here if you need me."
"Got it, babe."
Relm strode into the lounge, made furtive glances around. Eyed the scene, then slid up to the bar. Pouty-faced and pensive she received a pert glass of brandy. Spun round on her stool, to face the dance floor. Two men with a guitar and a mandolin were duelling out a high-step song. Several lively folks were tearing up the floor. Not such a bad place, Relm decided, not at all. So what if Zozo was damp and not so respectable? The parties were lively, at least. Relm found this to be quite an asset, sure enough.
She was gathered to the floor by a glance. A young-ish man, about twenty something. He winked her about and they stepped a few paces around. Relm shot him a genuine smile. Mouth creasing ever deeply.
The music stopped. "You dance well, missus." He chuckled, flashing pearly whites.
"Liar."
"No, ma'am. Not me, not always, anyway." He laughed, bouncing. His deep brown form a slender type of music. "Though that seems to be the prevalent form of communication in these parts."
"Tell me about it, pal." Relm fingered her braids, hand hair.
"Listen, you want to sit with me and the boys? They're over there." He motioned long and to the corner.
"Sure."
Relm settled deep into the booth next to dark man, eyed the others. Two others, a tanned older man, and a sandy youth, about the other's age. She smiled, nodded to them a greeting. They eyed her incredulously. Like a butterfly in a fishbowl.
"So..."
"Rouge, my name's Rouge."
"So, Rouge. This is everyone. My name's Earic. This is..."
"Keil." The sandy blond man smiled. "Charmed. You're something else, girl."
"Save it, Keil. I don't flatter easily." She laughed, glanced at the older man, with the ruddy complexion. "I'm sorry. Didn't get your name . . . "
"Charles." He said, slowly. "You seem a bit young to be here by yourself, girl." He sucked back on a smoke, balancing it toward his palm.
"Hmph." Relm was crestfallen, briefly. Her mouth creased, a frown.
"Yeah, Rouge." Earic puffed, "You can't be any more than eighteen, am I right?" He chuckled.
"Well, sixteen actually, but whose counting." Their eyes bulged, everyone. A silence. Charles drew back on his smoke again. Relm eyed him, her eyes fluttered. "Hey Charlie, can I have a drag of that?"
"Well . . . " He frowned, furrowed brow. She pursed lips, cocked one brow to the side. "Oh, alright. Here, kid." Relm tentatively reached forward. Took the small wrapped object, wafts of smoke billowing. A furnace, a swelling of air. She smiled, put it to her lips. Dragged, let out. Held her composure, though lungs begged to cough. Grinned, "Thanks, man."
"No problem." Charles regained control of the smoking joint. "You handle that well, for someone who has never smoked before in her life." Grinned devilishly at her. Something about his smile, she laughed. Flushed.
"That obvious?"
"'Fraid so."
Amused, they continued the conversation. The boys explained to her that they were making plans to head to the Colosseum in the morning, by foot. To try their luck. "We've not much to lose, us three." Earic chuckled. "Not so much down in the luck, but a bunch of free spirits. Starting afresh, ya know?"
"Yeah, a fresh start's great." Relm sighed, tilted her head. "But not for me, the Colosseum ain't! God, I've seen enough of that place for the rest of my life."
"You've been there?" Keil eyed her, doubting. "I don't believe you."
"You bet your patooie, I have! I went there back during the war, with a bunch of crazy cats called . . . Well, that's not important. A whole fool lot of them, anyway. None of that nonsense for me anymore, no way." Charles stared at her, silent. Pondering her character, it seemed. He took a draw and held out the smoke to Relm.
"'Nother drag, maybe?"
"Sure." She inhaled deeply, coating her lungs. Flushed deeply, the air grew thicker. Her head felt light, mouth dry. She shook her head, pressed lips together. Held the smoke out to Charles, and waited for him to take it.
"You've got quite a mouth on you, anyway." Keil laughed.
"Oh, Like she hasn't heard that before . . . " Charles snarled. "Try something new for a change, Keil." He smirked in Relm's general direction. "Feeling it, are you Rouge?"
"Not me." She drew her lips back to a crimson smile, casually rubbed her eyes. "Well, maybe a little light headed. Just a touch."
"Thought so." He smiled, "Don't worry. You fake it better than most." He stood up, casually. "Well, boys. I'm off. You'd be wise to join me." He stretched his arms beneath the dark jacket, yawned. "Right? Early rise tomorrow . . . "
"Yeah, Charles. In a minute." Earic glanced at Relm. "If you want to join us, feel welcome. I sure you'd have a laugh there, if you'd only give it a chance." He pushed in his chair.
"Yeah, beats Zozo any day." Keil laughed, and pulled on his jacket.
"Yeah maybe." Relm stood, watched them leave. Fiddled with her long teal braids. Saw that Charles was waiting at the bar to pay his tab. He glanced at her when he thought she wasn't looking, she caught his eye. He gave a small smile, rolled eyes in the direction of the bartender. Relm stood, motionless, watching. This man intrigued her, greatly. She was not one to simply drop something once intrigue, not by a long shot. The air, though smoky, was strangely light. Electric.
She eyed this curious man, smoking at the bar, who saw her again and laughed. Her mouth formed deep creases, and she too laughed. Then strode toward him, braids sailing. Settled herself next to him at the bar.